NonstopGarbage6

(novel library)

Your people roam the Great Steppe, chased and challenged by the fearsome Tribe of the Black Wolf. Their leader, the shaman Zhan-Ukhel, calls forth savage magic from Chernobog, the god who rules their tribe. Your tribe must have a leader who can call down protection from the gods. That leader is you, and this is your saga.

Rule your tribe as an iron-fisted chieftain or as a benevolent guardian. Will your allies support you on the field of battle? Will the gods come when you need them most? Do you even need the gods to smite your enemies, or will you seize divine power for yourself?

Horses in the Falcon

"I'm a man," you say indignantly, "and the son of a chieftain. I have no aptitude for magic that I know of, though. Only our shaman has such skill."


Baseera grunts noncommittally, then nods to where a path leads out of the clearing and into the forest. "It seems we have both a common heritage and a common enemy. Zhan-Ukhel is in the forest even now, drawing power from this world to take into yours. Perhaps if you act quickly, you can stop him."


You look at the path into the forest, but you can see only a few paces down it before it twists beneath the trees. "Can you help?" you ask.


"For a son of the steppe, I can," she replies. "I know of powerful forces in this world that are sympathetic to us. I will seek them out, and when you are in need, they will come to your aid."


You turn to thank her, but find yourself standing alone in the clearing. There is now nothing for it but to continue onward into the forest beyond.


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